


Faith

by Elucreh



Category: Son of Interflux - Korman
Genre: First Kiss, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-22
Updated: 2009-12-22
Packaged: 2017-10-05 00:54:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/35984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elucreh/pseuds/Elucreh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Phil can't compete</p>
            </blockquote>





	Faith

Simon waved as Sam drove off in the Wreck, mark two, and settled back in the grass of the Baldwin's front yard, glancing at Phil, who was wearing an expression of savage intensity.

"What?"

"This is the end, Simon. He won't be coming back from this one."

"What _are_ you talking about?"

"Boyfriend Syndrome. This is as bound to be incurable as any case I ever saw."

"Aw, c'mon, Phil. I mean, I admit the whole Barbara thing got a little out of hand, but--"

"Hey, I was predicting this long before we saw how bad Barbara could make things. How do you think I knew it was coming? Barbara was his fifth case--the worst, I admit, due to the virulence of the disease, but in the end it only made her easier to fight off. Maybe the other times Sotirios didn't drop off the face of the earth, but he wasn't exactly around a lot, either."

Simon opened his mouth to say something--he wasn't sure what--but Phil cut him off. "And Sarah--he'll be years over this one, Simon, if he ever gets past it."

Simon closed his mouth and considered this. Sarah, Nassau Arts newcomer and apprentice to T. C. Serrette (who was graduating in a month), daughter to a former U. S. ambassador to Egypt, was not only gorgeous, and a really nice person, she was smart and funny. She was in music--cello and composition--but she knew a lot about visual art, and had already inspired two of Sam's latest paintings. And beyond that--

"Camels, Simon, for god's sake!"

She had taken lessons and become a proficient camel rider when living with her father in Egypt, and brought her favorite, Gavin, home with her, where he was now living in a stable in her backyard.

"I see what you mean," Simon admitted. "But why does this bother you so much, Phil? I mean, sure, we'll see a little less of him, but so long as it isn't Barbara-levels of insanity--" he broke off as Phil's head dropped into his hands.

"Uh, Phil?"

"If only he wasn't so goddamn gorgeous," Phil muttered.

Simon blinked.

"I mean, he's a great friend, and we get along, and everything, but I think I could just get _over_ it if somebody'd break his nose or something. Him looking like that--it just destroys my faith."

Why, Simon reflected, why was this always happening to him? He really had to check the name on his driver's license--he could have _sworn_ he'd filled out the form with "Simon Irving" and not "Dear Abby," but given the way his life was going lately, he was probably wrong. And this was worse than Barbara, worse than Bill's career and Johnny's band.

He cleared his throat. "Have you ever--you know, tried anything? I mean--you've known each other your whole lives, Phil, and you haven't actually killed each other yet. I think you'd have a lot of poten--"

Phil shot him a death glare. "Yeah, I know. Why do you think I haven't tried it?"

Simon swallowed nervously. "Well, Phil, I don't know what to tell you," he said, in a way that was not at all with-it or together. Phil frowned at him, obviously puzzled by the way his voice was shaking just a little. "But--"

He rolled over, his face just inches away from Phil's, and had to gulp in a deep breath before he kissed him.

Phil sputtered under him, but when Simon tried to pull back Phil followed him, tentatively moving his own lips. Simon closed his eyes in relief and let himself enjoy the feel of Phil's soft stubble against his mouth for a moment before sitting back for real.

Phil looked more stunned than anything. "Are you kidding me?"

Simon cleared his throat again. "Well--at least you haven't shot me with a fire extinguisher."

Phil cracked up, and Simon followed suit, glad to have broken the tension. When their cackling finally died down, Phil reached for him, cupping his jaw in one big, clumsy hand, pulling their mouths together again, opening eagerly to Simon's tongue. They moved together, hands sliding down backs and around heads, legs tangling as they moved closer to each other, nipping and sucking.

Finally Simon had to pull back, rest his forehead against Phil's as he panted for breath.

"You know," Phil said thoughtfully, one hand still clutched in the collar of Simon's shirt, "you're a really good kisser. Man, this restores my faith."


End file.
